


If I Had a Choice

by hugducks



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec is at his breaking point, Angst and Feels, Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Episode: s01e12 Malec, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone here needs therapy, Internalized Homophobia, Light Swearing, M/M, Magnus is fed up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23433001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hugducks/pseuds/hugducks
Summary: Alec is about to get married to the woman he... well, doesn't love, but respects. Admires. He shouldn't be here - he should be anywhere but Magnus's loft.But why is it the only place he wants to be?Rewrite of the pre-wedding scene in "Malec."
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	If I Had a Choice

Alec twisted the martini glass in his hands, not willing to take a sip. He sat, straight backed, unrelaxed, on a couch in Magnus’s living room.

_He shouldn’t be here. He was getting married tomorrow_. 

The warlock, fixing a drink of his own at the bar, didn’t comment on the tension oozing out from every one of his pores. Alec didn’t know whether he should be grateful or enraged. He chose the latter.

“Why did you call me here.” He clenched his jaw.

“Can’t I just enjoy your company, Alexander?” Magnus turned, brow raised. Relaxed, teasing, but the stress in his neck told Alec differently.

He ignored it. “I’m getting married tomorrow, Magnus. I can’t be running around the city like this.”

Magnus looked down, a tight smile pulled. “Ah yes. Congratulations,” he said, “on the nuptials.”

Alec didn’t know what he had wanted Magnus to say, but evidently it wasn’t that. Everyone was so happy for him, so… he knew Magnus well enough to know something was up, but not well enough to know what.

Hell, he didn’t know himself well enough to know why he was so wound up.

( _That was a lie. He knew quite well why he didn’t want to go through with this wedding, what – who – was stopping him from being able to love Lydia like he should._ )

“So tell me about the lucky lady,” Magnus drawled, snapping him back to reality. His face was an impersonal mask of indifference, a contradiction to the caring intrigue Alec had grown fond of.

“Lydia,” Alec said with a grimace, a sour taste filling his mouth. “She’s… she’s a formidable shadowhunter. An envoy from the Clave.” Fingers tapped against the brim of his glass. “A strong candidate for running the Institute.”

“You sound like you’re reading her resume. I knew shadowhunters had a penchant for arranged marriages, but I didn’t know they had gotten this impersonal.”

Alec cut him a look. “It’s not an arranged marriage, Magnus.”

Magnus just smiled thinly. “Then what would you call this? And don’t,” he waved his hand, “try to convince me you’re in love with her, Alexander. You and I both know that’s not true.”

Alec clenched his jaw. “I’d call it… a partnership.”

“That’s one of the most depressing things I’ve heard you say.”

“Only for you.”

Magnus huffed, a silence filling the space between them. “And if you could marry for love?”

Alec sighed, face dropping into his free hand. “Few shadowhunters get that privilege, Magnus.” _And shadowhunters like Alec… even fewer got that chance_. 

“And plenty wait for it.” 

“I’m twenty-two. Average age to get hitched.”

“Who ever said you had to be average, Alexander?” _His fingers on that glass…_

By the Angel.

“Alexander?”

“Why do you care so much about my love life, Magnus?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he was cursing himself.

The warlock flinched, almost imperceptibly. He shook it off.

Alec wanted to say something, apologize, but the rage bubbling inside stopped him.

“It’s rude to lead a man on, Alexander.” Magnus’s voice was sharp, uncaring.

He may as well have slapped him in the face. “I wasn’t leading you on, Magnus.”

“You flirted back, if I recall.” The warlock picked at his perfectly manicured nails. “Did you always intend to get married?”

“I.” Alec tried to start, tried to say, mouth suddenly dry. “I never meant to lead you on, Magnus.” _He wanted to flirt back. He wanted it to be Magnus._

“Then what would you call this? ‘Growing warlock-shadowhunter relations?”

His mouth opened, and closed again. “I–I didn’t–”

“Yeah, yeah, you didn’t mean to get this involved. I’ve heard it before, shadowhunter.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he corrected softly.

A pained look flashed across the other man’s face. “Then why?”

“Why what?”

“Why get married to a woman who doesn’t make you happy?”

A sigh, shoulders caving under the weight of more than just the conversation. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Alexander.”

“Not this time. Not here.”

“Then tell me _why_. Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Silence. 

“ _Why?_ ”

“Because!” Alec yelled, going to slam down the glass (but stopping at the last second - he _couldn’t_ , couldn’t harm anything of Magnus’s, he couldn’t). “What I am is _wrong._ ” The words broke out of him, voice faltering, and Alec would’ve given anything in the world to never have to see that look on Magnus’s face again.

The warlock’s voice was gentle. “Alexander-”

“No,” he spat, practically leaping off the couch, “you don’t understand.” His voice was ragged, _weak_ , and he hated himself for it. “I–we.” A pause. “I’m not like you, Magnus,” he started again, shoulders sagging. “I don’t get a choice.”

“Being gay isn’t a choice, Alexander.”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it?” He ran a hand through his hair, voice hysterical, wondering briefly in the back of his head whether he should control himself or not. _Fuck control_. “If it was a choice, I wouldn’t be like this. I-I would find a girl, I would settle down, get married, have kids. Be _normal_.” He laughed, falling back on the couch, hand finding the martini. 

The contents went down in a single gulp.

He could feel the burn of Magnus’s eyes on him, feel the way he moved through the room and sat next to him – not so close that they touched ( _oh, how he wanted him closer_ ), but close enough that he could feel the slope of the couch as it sank under his weight. It was like every cell in his body was focused on Magnus and _he wanted it to_ stop _. To go away_. 

“You’re hurting.” A statement, not a question.

Alec looked away. 

“Alexander.”

“I don't get a choice, Magnus. Shadowhunters like me – you either suck it up or you fade into insignificance.” He shrugged, still unable to meet Magnus’s gaze. “The latter was never an option. I’m a Lightwood.”

Magnus cocked his head. “I’ve known a Lightwood or two that’ve upset the Clave and still been successes. What makes you any different?”

Alec shook his head, striding towards the balcony. “I come from a family of fuckups, Magnus. My parents were part of the Circle. Izzy… isn’t the most traditional when it comes to how she lives her life. Jace, though I love him, is a menace.” A hand ran through his hair. “We’ve clawed our way back up to basic respect because we’re damn good at what we do, but we walk on thin ice. One wrong move, by _any_ of us… the rest of us are fucked.”

_Fucked was an understatement._

”Our family reputation is shit, Magnus. My siblings are smart. They’re capable. We already have to prove ourselves because of our parents’ actions. If the Clave knew the truth about me, that’d just be another thing we have to make up for. And that’s not fair to any of us.”

The warlock turned, hands almost reaching out. “The Clave is run by idiots.”

Alec gave him a half-smile. “Idiots who affect every aspect of my life.”

Magnus was quiet. “Things change, eventually.”

_But eventually was too long to wait._

Their hands were so close. Alec knew how he had to move to close the space between them, to feel his hands, his chest, his _lips–_

“I should go,” he swallowed, jerking towards the door.

“Alexander.”

“I have to do this,” he said quietly, hand on the door. “It’s not just me on the line.”

_He was so tired_.

“Alexander… stay for just one more drink?”

The shadowhunter broke. “Y’know, I had never gotten drunk before I met you.” He shrugged, and the movement was so full of defeat… who was he? “Not a complete prude,” he mumbled, leaning against the wall, “but I had to be _perfect_. Because there was always something missing.”

Magnus just watched. 

“I’d train until my hands bled, I’d study through the night, I’d try to pick up _girls_ – but nothing worked. I was _never_ good enough. Because something was always wrong.

“I know a wedding isn’t going to magically make me straight, Magnus. Lydia knows that, too. But this way,” he looked at his hands, shoving them in his pockets to hide their trembling, “this way at least I can get something out of my life.” Open hands turned to fists. “I–I can’t be myself, Magnus. I’ll never be able to fall in love, like the rest of the shadowhunters. But maybe I can make a difference, and it would sure as hell help if I was the Head of an institute at the age of 22… I could do something with my life, Magnus.” He wiped away the tears starting to form, because _Alec Lightwood did not cry, he_ couldn’t _be weak, he–_

“And if you could be yourself?” Magnus asked quietly. “If you weren’t dealt a shit hand in whatever game the Clave plays?”

Alec turned in the doorway, staring at Magnus with eyes full of grief and despair. Broken. “I’d do this,” he whispered, striding towards the warlock and taking his face, oh so _gently_ , in his hands. 

Alec kissed him, and it was like everything that had been missing was right _there_ . His lips were soft, sweet, and when he kissed _back_ – Alec could feel every wall he’d ever built up crumbling because this was _right_.

The shadowhunter let out a sound that might have been a laugh, might have been a sob, and broke away, staring at the warlock with a mixture of awe and grief. 

Magnus leaned in, almost unconsciously, tightening the arm that had found its way around his waist, reaching up to caress his cheek. 

“If I had a choice,” Alec whispered, staring into the warlock’s eyes. “If I had a choice.”

“Stay.” A whisper. A plea.

“I want to.” Alec waited for his brain to supply the next words, the _I can’t_ , the excuse of duty, or family.

But it didn’t. 

“Alexander?” Magnus whispered, hand coming down to rest on his shoulder.

The shadowhunter swallowed. “I think… I think I have a wedding to cancel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys thanks for reading! I hope everyone's staying safe and practicing social distancing if you can :)  
> This is a quarantine produced fic. I am angsty. My depression's acting up. I don't wanna be here. My relationship with my girlfriend is interesting thanks to the above statements. Hope y'all enjoyed!


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